Visiting America can be a truly uplifting and pleasurable experience. It is the land of milk and honey, where the streets are paved with gold and everyone gets a fair chance to prosper and succeed. Migrants have been arriving for centuries, from all corners of the globe. Buy into the American dream and you too, can take your place on the gravy train to a modern day Utopia - a consumer heaven - a veritable Shangri La of goods, Gods and guns (for your own protection of course).

Trans continental virgin visitors are usually impressed by the size and splendour of the cities, monuments and entertainment citadels at their disposal, and the general efficiency, vibrancy and friendliness of the people. Everything in excess… easy access …success, success, success. But, it's not as perfect as it initially appears. Closer scrutiny, and a scratch beneath the veneerial surface, finds a shallowness of spirit and a poverty of purpose among the kinfolk that belies the over confidence most Americans exude. Conversation tends to be on a relatively banal and limited level, mainly because most Americans are frighteningly unaware of almost anything that goes on outside of their borders…and that includes Canada. Far too many Americans tend to be globally oblivious, insular and parochial. No wonder their armed forces have such trouble policing the rest of the world. A local female singer, well known to rare soul followers, ventured deep into the wisdom wasteland by enquiring why performers couldn't take the train to Britain, and seemed genuinely shocked when news of the Atlantic Ocean reached her.

Only in America could a campaign designed to raise money for Africa be called 'We are the world'. Such is the extent of their arrogance. Yet, there is an obsession that permeates the entire society and even makes the influence of the Christian church pale in comparison. It is the national fixation. The true 'god' - money. And most Americans worship it devoutly. Ironically, this devotion also fuels the creative process, but as no more than the artistic means to a financial end. It was always disappointing to speak to writers and producers, in particular, about their craft and hear them rate various projects solely by how much money they did or didn't make. The creative or technical genius that provided the spark of inspiration seemed almost irrelevant, and there never seemed to be any genuine sense of accomplishment or pride - quite the contrary. If it didn't hit then it can't have been any good. Many were shocked that there was any interest in material long discarded or forgotten about, unless, of course any revival would mean another payday for them. And for some it would.

I first met Clay McMurray at his Love 'N Comfort studio on Livernois Avenue, in the mid 1990s. He had returned to his hometown of Detroit several years earlier from Los Angeles, where he had worked for Motown since their defection in the early 1970s. His work with David Ruffin, Gladys Knight, The Originals, and many others, is revered by the people who know. We spent many hours reminiscing and remembering his time in the 1960s and 1970s as a songwriter, label owner and producer, and how he was head hunted by Berry Gordy. He was highly regarded at Motown, to the point where he became a regular member of the Quality Control department and had direct influence over releases, mixes, lyrical content and the like, before being elevated to the first tier of in-house producers. His involvements with Thelma Records, M-S productions, Spyder Turner are mere highlights in a rich and varied career. But it was the detail and minutia of obscure recordings, and the personal characteristics of many of the industry's prime movers, on both sides of the microphone, that was truly fascinating. Sadly, most of it is not suitable for public disclosure. We were listening to a tape of Detroit recordings one evening when Patti Young's 'Head and shoulders' came on. Clay became very animated and stated that he had sat in on the actual recording session, but couldn't recollect the singer. (He identified all the individual musicians incidentally, and pinpointed the studio, Terra Shirma, by its 'sound') When I mentioned Patti Young's name he looked quizzical before remembering the aforementioned songstress as Sue Ann Jones. Who knew? But we didn't just sit around.

Rudy Robinson

One of my most memorable evenings in Detroit was spent in the company of Clay and a veritable who's who of 1960s soul icons, at Juanita's Hideaway, on the west side in 1994. Pat Lewis had organized the visit, to see ace keyboardist Rudy Robinson and his band provide the backing for anyone and everyone who wanted a chance to sing. I had the arduous task of trying to follow JJ Barnes to the venue across the sprawling mega laned motorways that honeycomb Detroit. He must have been a racing driver in another life. I later discovered that he had a radar detector fitted to his car. The club was small, dimly lit and smoky - the perfect atmosphere for low down blues tinged black music, and the guest list was impressive. Clay, JJ and Pat and myself were joined by Freddie Butler, Spyder Turner and Rose Battiste. 

Freddie Butler and Rob

Everyone, except me, performed a song or two, as well as many members of the audience. Rudy appeared to know any and every song requested of him The highlights though included Freddie Butler's hilarious rendition of 'Open house (at my house)', complete with x rated ad libs, JJ, Rose and Pat combining for a spine tingling version of 'Open the door to your heart' and Spyder singing 'Stand by me' with accompaniment from every person in the room. 

Clay and Karen

While in California, Clay McMurray had married Karen Pree, a recording artist in her own right for Casablanca Records and Warner Brothers, and as a part of The Pree Sisters for Capitol. They had, literally, made beautiful music together in the late 1970s, much of which had never been released. The same was true for recordings by Lyn Varnado, Charles Brimmer, Jimmy Ruffin and an instrumental ensemble known as The Love'N Comfort Orchestra. To hear this music in a proper studio through massive Tannoy speakers, from the original 24 track tapes and with a running commentary from the producer/creator was a fantastic experience. This wasn't 'throw away', second rate material either. All were full, mastered productions featuring those members of the famed Funk Brothers who had moved with the company, plus the cream of LA's session players. Quite why they were recorded and then shelved is open to conjecture. Never the less, Charles Brimmer's version of Al Wilson's 'Show and tell', Lyn Varnado's take on Ashford and Simpson's 'Ain't that something', Jimmy Ruffin's 'The entertainer', Karen Pree's gorgeous 'You've gotten to me' and her 'Can't help loving (the one who's loving me)' were worthy of five star attention. But what to do with them? Neither Clay nor Karen showed much interest in releasing them after such a long time, and specialist companies didn't exist. This was not the only source of unreleased material available either. It transpired that McMurray's old writing partner, Don Juan Mancha, had some booty of his own, as I discovered on Al Kent's front porch one summer evening in 1994, when he produced an innocuous looking, and slightly battered, cassette tape. To hear Lorretta Kendrick's 'My feelings keep getting in the way' on a tinny, barely audible, player could not deter from its beauty, style or poignancy and I immediately became entranced. To add to its pedigree, Mancha explained how Marvin Gaye had arranged the strings and that many of the same musicians who had worked on McMurray's material were on this too. Kendrick would later become lead singer of The Natur-elles, and record for Mickey Stevenson and Clarence Paul's Venture label in Los Angeles. Yet, there was more to come, and the true genius of Mancha's writing shone forth on his heartfelt tribute to his friend and confederate, Marvin Gaye, in the form of Tim Carter's brilliant vocal performance on 'Thank you Marvin'. Tim Carter seems to something of an enigma. As far as I can determine, he never actually had any records released, which is surprising given his talent. Yet, he did perform and entertain in and around Michigan for a considerable time. His uncle is famed Memphis based songwriter/producer Daryl Carter. I was fortunate to gain a rare insight into the mysterious world of musical creativity and understanding between writers one evening at Love'N Comfort when Don Mancha brought in the embryonic stages of a song he had been working on for Clay's input. He had a basic rhythm track on cassette tape and a lyric sheet, which he sang as best he could. It didn't take Clay more than a few minutes to understand Mancha's concept and begin planning instrument utilization, pace, vocal phrasing and all the other components of the song. Amazing. Frank Bryant had been a fixture in and around the Detroit recording scene since his initial sessions with Don Davis in the very early 1960s.With brother James, he recorded as The Just Brothers for several local labels, including Holland/Dozier/Holland's Music Merchant logo where their instrumental 'Sliced tomatoes' became very popular on Britain's rare soul scene until it was shamelessly mangled into a pop hit for some pseudo DJ masquerading as a musician, and became incidental music for a wide variety of mundane sport, cooking and drama programmes. Although it sold into the millions worldwide, performance fees for the original musicians have never been paid. Although the record gained notoriety in the early 1970s, it was actually recorded in 1965 as the B side to a song called 'Honey' the brothers intended to release. As the original tapes were lost somewhere back in the mists of time, the sole record of 'Honey''s existence was contained in the bruised and battered grooves of a 7” acetate Frank had managed to keep. After considerable restorative work in the UK, the song finally made its way onto vinyl.

Most of the Just Brothers output was produced, written and arranged by Winifred 'Johnny' Terry, and it was to his palatial gaff, near Outer Drive in a very posh suburb of Detroit, that Frank and I ventured one cold winter day in 1995. Terry's wife is the sister of Brian and Edward Holland. Their house used to belong to Eddie. Hallowed ground? This certainly explains how 'Sliced tomatoes' gained a release on Music Merchant. Johnny proceeded to enrapture us with anecdotes about his time in the Juvenile Facility in Georgia where he first met James Brown and Bobby Byrd (and wrote Brown's first hit 'Please please please'), his time as a member of The Drifters (and how they spent their advances for 'Saturday night at the movies' before it was released, so certain were they that the song was going to be a massive hit) and the various productions he undertook around Detroit on artists like The Honey Bees and Jack Montgomery. He was less forthcoming however when the subject of his arrest during the Detroit Riots and the details surrounding the release of Jack Montgomery's 'Baby, take a chance on me' on Revue was delicately broached. Like many others, Johnny Terry had recorded material that was never issued commercially. This time it came in the form of Clarence Jackson, and, once again, the quality was top notch. But what to do? The amount of high standard unreleased material in Detroit alone was incredible. It shouldn't be left to gather dust, or worse, in an environment of indifference and apathy. I therefore decided to enact the sentiments of the old saying 'If you want a job doing properly do it yourself', and launch my own label that would provide a suitable vehicle for these gems, and give soul devotees an opportunity to hear material that had previously been denied to them. And, as long as I didn't lose substantial amounts of money, I honestly didn't care (and still don't) whether the songs are 'successful' or not. As long as people show an interest and offer their support I will continue to search for more of the same. To date Hayley Records has managed to release material on artist like JJ Barnes, Sy Hightower, Emanuel Laskey, The Masqueraders, Van McCoy, Steve Mancha plus many more, that would never had seen the light if left to whims of the commercial market forces. 

God Bless America!

Rob Moss

Hayley Records Website

http://www.hayleyrecords.co.uk

Part 1 of Visiting Detroit

http://www.soul-source.co.uk/soul-words/visiting-detroit-rob-moss.htm

Parts 2 and 3 of Visiting Detroit

http://www.soul-source.co.uk/soul-words/visiting-detroit-part-2-rob-moss...